Dane, “Little Dane” was my precious birth name.
And I dearly loved my grandma who was also named, Dane.
Naturally, at times, by mistake, folks said, “Jane.”
Each time, “Dane…like a Great-Dane” rectification came.
After many years searching genealogy, I discovered.
No boys, but girls had great-grandfather Dane’s name.
Naturally, surprised, proud of the name just the same.
Adding Ann with no E…to me, Dane Ann, was conferred.
Corrections were often needed; I could count on fun, too.
Opportunities for attention ah, rapping at my name’s door.
Over the years, receiving Mr. Dane mail I did not adore.
Laughed loud when I was drafted, no girls, then, I knew.
Now that joke was on me; I reported the mistake.
And before I left for home, a dotted line I did see.
My, the Army sounds great…an education for me!
Events made me shake; the war made me quake.
My name is Dane, not Jane, not “Puddin’-n-tane”
It is not, James, John, or Penny-whinney-jinxsaw!
Not Sally or Sue, but a life-name with no flaw.
Easy to spell; it's for boys, and for me, D-A-N-E, Dane.
© February 16, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen
An acrostic poem written in “Enclosed Rhyme”
Categories:
whinney, family, nostalgia, song-lyriceducation, me,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme
Durned ol' Blue
He must have the flu
Cause I got on him
And he withdrew.
When I came to
I just found his shoe
And it looked to me
Like he'd grew wings and flew.
I looked for him here
And looked for him there.
T'weren't under the rug
Nor under the chair.
I looked high and low
And I looked to and fro
Then something hit my nose
And landed on my toe.
I stooped to see, then something hit me
That felt some what like a bee
I knew at once that it was he
I could tell by the sound of his whinney.
I turned around to hold my ground
And what I found held me spell bound.
Yep, t'was durned ol' Blue
As I did knew.
He was a sittin' on the bed
Putting on his shoe
The grin on his face grew and grew
And I could see he'd licked his flu.
Durned ol' Blue
Shame on you
Just look what you done
Went and put me through.
Get out that door
Tis time for chores
Your day of leisure
Ain't no more.
Into your collar
You lazy bum
I guarantee now
My funs begun.
Cile Beer
Categories:
whinney, animals, funny, imagination, for
Form: I do not know?